


And... Break!

by swimmingfrug



Category: James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 23:54:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1667111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swimmingfrug/pseuds/swimmingfrug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Quartermaster needs to learn how to take a break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And... Break!

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Q starts becoming obsessed with a project and Bond is called in to force Q to take a break. After trying to be reasonable about it, James succeeds by nefarious means: drugging his tea, stealing his glasses, hiding his laptop at home, tossing him over his shoulder and hauling him out of Q branch, etc. Bond keeps doing this until Q learns to compromise.

The first time it happened, Q was furious. James was completely unrepentant. If this was the only way to get his quartermaster to rest, then so be it. 

“007, put me down _right now_ or so help me I will ruin every electronic you set a finger to _do you understand me_ -”

“This is the second time in twelve hours that you’ve fainted from a combination of malnutrition, lack of sleep, and extreme stress. I suggest you just let this forced break happen,” James interrupted.

Q slumped against James’s fireman’s hold, seeming to give up any fight. Then James felt a hand against his ass. It stroked over lightly, drawing patterns and testing the firmness. When the hand moved under his jacket to trace under the waistband, James held back a sigh. Of all people, Q knew what kind of training James had undergone; there was no way in hell that some mild groping would distract him from-

James felt his backup gun get yanked out of his back holster and froze. That little bastard.

“Bond, let me go or I shoot your arse,” Q demanded.

James snorted, but didn’t dignify that with a response. He kept walking and ignored all of Q’s ranting about how important his work is, how his whole team is going to muck things up if he isn’t there, how Bond wasn’t going to get sex until he came back from his next mission no matter how he tried to make up for it afterwards, and other such lovely things. 

When they finally arrived at the designated emergency bedroom, James tossed Q onto the mattress and straddled him. “Now, we have a couple ways we can go about this. One, you can just rest without complaint. Two, I can tie you to the bed. Your choice?”

Q put up a struggle that seemed to be given more on principle than anything else. James let him squirm until he ran out of energy. Q finally sighed. “I’ll rest. On my own. So if you would kindly get off and go.”

James bit back a remark about how he _could_ get off with great difficulty. Instead, he said, “Yes, sir.” He threw a cocky salute, swung himself to the floor, and strode out without another word. He also locked the door behind him before settling down right outside to keep guard. 

Q learned to not try and escape after his third time around.

\-----

It became something like tradition. Q would work himself past the bone and down to his nerves, and James would be called in to get the well-meaning-but-needs-some-food-and-sleep-before-he-dies-early quartermaster. To date, James had (among other things) spiked Q’s tea with a concoction Medical whipped up, stolen his laptop (plus the two backups stashed in his office), drugged his food, and during one memorable occasion, jabbed a tranquilizer into his neck. 

Each time, James would hover protectively around Q while he was passed out, glaring at anybody who thought to even touch his quartermaster without permission. Eve was an exception. She usually kept him company through the long hours while Q caught up with his sleep. She even gave a few pointers for their relationship. Her most recent observation turned out to be the most useful.

“You know, Q,” James drawled as Q roused himself from his latest sleeping binge, “I know you like getting abducted by me, but I think it’ll be much more fun if I abduct you for… _other_ things. Things which we could do if you weren’t so tired all the time…”

The rate at which Q overworked himself went down drastically after that conversation.


End file.
